


Trouble

by Golden_Asp



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen, POV First Person, blonde bombshell Luna, detective Nyx, noir
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:27:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22582522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Golden_Asp/pseuds/Golden_Asp
Summary: I knew the dame was trouble the moment she walked through my door.ORLunafreya goes to down on his luck Detective Ulric to solve a murder.  Things don't go exactly as he thought they would.
Relationships: Lunafreya Nox Fleuret & Nyx Ulric
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	Trouble

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, so yeah. This is the piece I wrote for the Lucian Nights Noir Zine. I could've posted it last year but I completely spaced it. I never write first person fanfic, but it was Noir. It's part of the charm.
> 
> Also, hey, this is FFXV fic number 100. Yay. Or something.
> 
> this may have been beta-ed but I honestly don't remember.

I knew the dame was trouble the moment she walked through my door. Dressed in black from head to toe, the neckline showing an ample amount of beautiful, pale breasts, hat pinned to her blonde hair and a net demurely covering blue eyes, she was a knockout.

I snubbed my cig out and looked at her through the curling tendrils of smoke.

“What can I do ya for, dollface?”

Her red painted lips folded into a frown that she quickly wiped away.

“Detective Ulric—”

“Nyx, please. Only my superiors call me Detective Ulric.”

That frown was back. Dame needed to be careful or she’d age prematurely.

“Detective Ulric, I was told you could help me.”

“That’s what it says on the door, kitten.”

“My name is Lunafreya. My husband was murdered.”

Well, that explained the all black duds. 

I sighed and pulled out another cigarette, striking a match and lighting it. Business had been slow lately, and the big guy upstairs knew I needed the dough.

“Why don’t you tell me what happened,” I said, taking a long drag of my gasper. I had a feeling I was going to need it.

The biddy told me how she’d come home to find her husband, Luche Lazarus, dead in a pool of blood. She didn’t know who would want him dead, because he was the nicest man in the world. It was a typical sob story, one I’d heard hundreds of times before.

“Lunafreya, I’m gonna need to go to the scene of the crime,” I said, snubbing out my cig. She sniffed, those big blue eyes staring at me from behind her mourning veil. 

“I won’t go back,” she said. “It was far too horrible.”

I held up my hand. “Of course. Give me the key and I can check it out on my own and get back to you. Do you have a place to stay?”

“Of course I do,” she said with a sniff. “My brother has opened his house to me.”

“What a guy,” I drawled. She reached into her purse and pulled out a key, pushing it across my desk. She gave me the address to her house and stood up. 

“I need your contact information, doll. So I can keep ya apprised of the situation.”

She sniffed and wrote her name, number, and address across the page. I held my hand out and she gingerly put her dainty hand in my mitt.

Shaking her hand was like holding onto a dead fish, limp and a bit clammy.

“I’m also going to need half my fee upfront.”

She let out a noise like an alley cat and opened her purse, slamming a wad of cash onto my desk. She turned and stormed out, slamming my door shut behind her. 

I tucked her info and the cash into my pocket and opened my drawer. I pulled out my .45 and checked it; fully loaded and a round in the chamber. I slid the gun home into my shoulder holster and pulled on my jacket.

I made a call to my old boss first. Granted, Captain Cor Leonis was the one that got me fired from the force, but he was a good guy. I gave him a rundown of the dame and her plight. Some of the things he told me raised the hair on the back of my neck.

Lunafreya wasn’t some innocent skirt. A trail of dead husbands followed in her wake, leaving all their money to her. Suspicious, but not a knockout.

Oh well. Time to make a living.

:::

The biddy’s house was massive. I’d known the house was going to be big before I got there, but it was more castle than humble abode. I walked the perimeter of the joint first, looking for any signs of forced entry.

Nothing. It was a little suspicious that the black and whites weren’t on the scene. The murder was fairly recent, and even I recognized the name on the mailbox. They were one of the city’s old rich families. The newshawks and police should be all over the scene, but it was quiet.

Too quiet.

I started to wonder if I’d been had.

I unlocked the door and was immediately hit by the overpowering stench of death. Let me tell ya, if you’ve never smelled a stiff, it’s a powerfully unique smell that you never forget.

I pulled my deck out and lit one, hoping the acrid taste and smell of the smokes would block out the smell.

It didn’t work very well.

I found her husband naked and bloated in the bedroom. He was completely uncovered, birdie free to the air.

Most distraught wives cover their husband’s body, especially if they were naked. I pulled my pocket square out of my jacket and covered my mouth as I knelt over the body. 

The bullet holes were small and neat; a small caliber weapon then. Most likely a .22 or a .38. I glanced around the room and grabbed a towel from the floor. Maybe ol’ Luche here had been coming out of the shower when he’d been surprised by the hatchetman. I used the towel to flip him onto his back, grunting at his dead weight.

The exit wounds were larger. In like a penny out a like a pizza.

“Well. I don’t think you’re going to be coming back from the dead,” I told the corpse, getting to my feet. I walked around the room, noting the photos of Lunafreya on the nightstand. A canary, going by the pictures of her singing at a piano while a white haired man played. 

I found some mail on the table and rifled through it. Seems my pal Luche had been frequenting some less than reputable places lately. There was a letter written by someone named Titus. I’ll spare you the boring details, but a few phrases leapt out at me.

“‘Your wife isn’t who you think she is. Get out before it’s too late,’” I read out loud, pacing the room.

“‘Don’t let her find out about your piece on the side, and the money.’ It’s always money and dames,” I muttered. 

“They said you were a washed up detective,” Lunafreya said. Did I dare imagine the hint of sadness in her dulcet voice?

Probably. I have a very active imagination.

“They would be wrong, doll face,” I said, spinning to face her. She had a .38 special in her hands, long, thin fingers wrapped around the pearl grip. 

“You came here before I could clean up,” she said. The hat and net were gone, long blonde hair cascading over her shoulders and curling over her pert breasts. Her chest heaved, drawing my eyes.

“Guess you should’ve done that before you came to me.”

“A mistake I won’t be making again.”

“C’mon, kitten. I hadn’t even pinned you as the trigger man. Woman.”

“Don’t lie to me, Ulric. It’s a bad look on such a handsome face.”

I shrugged, hands loose at my sides. She’d shoot me before I could get to my own gun, and the last thing I wanted was to be filled with air. 

“I never even loved Luche,” she said, eyes dropping to her husband’s slowly bloating corpse. 

“Then why marry him?” I asked. If I could keep her talkin’…

“My brother thought it was for the best after my last husband died.”

“You do seem to go through them.”

A flash of anger across her face. I held my hand out, trying to placate her.

“You wouldn’t understand,” she said passionately, those red, red lips curving around the words.

“It doesn’t need to end like this, Lunafreya. You can walk out the door and I’ll forget I ever knew you.”

She just smiled, those blue eyes like two chips of ice. “I doubt that. I was told you were like a dog with bone. Unwilling to give up a case until it was solved.”

“Character flaw, I’m afraid.”

“They called you ‘Hero’.”

I made a face. I hated that nickname. 

“I’m no hero, doll.”

We moved at the same time. She got a shot off and it took me high in the shoulder. My gun cleared its holster and I squeezed the trigger as I went down.

The last thing I saw was the dame collapsing across her husband’s body.

:::

I woke up a few days later in the hospital. Cor told me he’d come in just in time to see Lunafreya shoot me. She’s buried with her husband in the same grave. I think her brother might be after me, but that’s a tale for another day.

I walked into the bar, arm in a sling and a shiny new scar to add to my collection. Ardyn Izunia looked up from his bar and poured me a whiskey.

“Looks like there’s a story there,” he drawled.

I slammed back the drink and grinned at him.

“I knew that dame was trouble the moment she walked through my door.”

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are love


End file.
